


Lock the Doors and do Not Let the Hunters Enter

by victoriousscarf



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Celebrimbor is a tragedy bicycle, Nargothrond, everything is ambiguous but everything hurts, parallels suck basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:04:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3523478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>We should never have come here</em>, Celebrimbor though, vicious and angry as he watched his father lean against the back of Finrod’s chair, that golden head tilted back slightly, lips parted. Curufin’s fingers were dangerously close to the bare skin on Finrod’s wrist and they were talking quietly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lock the Doors and do Not Let the Hunters Enter

**Author's Note:**

> I had a migraine for three days and that letting up for some reason made me want to write this.

_We should never have come here_ , Celebrimbor though, vicious and angry as he watched his father lean against the back of Finrod’s chair, that golden head tilted back slightly, lips parted. Curufin’s fingers were dangerously close to the bare skin on Finrod’s wrist and they were talking quietly.

Celebrimbor was fairly certain they had forgotten he was still there so he slipped out because it was better than trying and speak, to see if he could break the spell. He knew, intellectually, that his father could not weave a spell on Finrod, not of actual magic, and yet there was no other description he had for the way Finrod tilted to him and pressed up and…

_We should never have come here_ , Celebrimbor thought, sick and tired when he saw Celegorm stalk back through the halls, Huan at his side.

_We should never have come here_ , he thought when he watched his father and uncle stand before the court of Nargothrond, bitterly building off each other’s words as Finrod watched them, eyes standing out against his pale face far more than usual.

_Why did you let us in?_ he wanted to yell, wanted to shake Finrod. Finrod, who was supposed to see the future, at least sometimes, should have turned them away at the door back to the other sons of Fëanor, when it was discovered they were still alive. It did not matter that he now had more people than any other kingdom Celebrimbor knew of, it was still stupid to let a viper inside your house to simply gain protection for a short time.

He watched Finrod stand, dropping his crown at his feet and not looking away from Curufin’s face. His father, Celebrimbor noted, as if from far away, looked a little sick himself, but his face was stoic and Celebrimbor did not think anyone else noticed.

He watched Finrod walk out and wanted to run after him, demanding answers.

_Why did you let us in?_ he thought, exhausted and aching when he watched Curufin and Celegorm lean on either side against the throne where Orodreth sat. He knew his thoughts addressed the dead now.

_We should never have come here_.

When Curufin and Celegorm left, cast out he stepped back, away from his father’s outstretched hand. He saw Curufin’s face darken and knew then, he would never be able to go back, never be accepted by his father again.

But he felt too sick and tired and angry to care and so watched his father walk away.

A lifetime later, Galadriel looked at him with dark blue eyes. “Why did you let him in?” she asked, voice serious and Celebrimbor shrugged, not recognizing the echo.

“Annatar is not a danger,” he said instead. “He wants to help.”

Galadriel’s eyes were too knowing and he turned away.

He did not hear Annatar approach later that night as he sat, plans and spare parchment spread out on the table in front of him. Annatar leaned against the back of his chair, and Celebrimbor tilted his face back and up, to look at him as the other leaned down.


End file.
